An Ill Advised Directive
by 2muchofagoodthing
Summary: If General Hammond had really, truly thought through his new directive, he never would’ve given it. Note: Rated “T” for subject matter. Somewhat SamJack.


**An Ill Advised Directive**

_If General Hammond had really, truly thought through his new directive, he never would've given it. Note: Rated "T" for subject matter. Somewhat SamJack._

Disclaimer: These are not my characters. I'm just borrowing. There is no profit involved, unfortunately.

General Hammond was speaking to a standing-room-only crowd in the conference room, one of several scheduled that day.

"People, I've brought you here for an important reason. I've been disgusted with many bits and pieces of conversations I've overhead on base. Much needs to be cleaned up, but for now, we'll start with this one – there will be no words spoken that can be construed as having anything to do with reproduction or sexual activity. I'm going to be strict with this... I don't want to even hear as much as "K-I-S-S" on this base from now on, in any form whatsoever."

Dr. Frasier, chart in hand, was looking very uncomfortable. "Medical staff and infirmary conversations excluded, of course," added the General, looking Janet's way. She nodded, relieved.

General Hammond's eyes swept the faces of those before him, noting with consternation the suppressed smiles. "I mean it, people. If you're talking about 'sex,' it better be about the gender of someone's unborn child. In fact, to show how serious this directive is, I am ordering that, from the time each of you leaves this room, anyone caught 'messing up' by another must hand over a one dollar bill _– per word _and_ per person present._ Any comments or questions?"

"Oopsie," slid out of a corner of Major Carter's lips. That last part of the directive was going to turn this into a circus.

"Major? Did you say something?" The General's already-red face was quickly transitioning to purple.

Colonel O'Neill spoke up. "I think what she meant to say, Sir, is that, it's good you made a clean breast of... things," he finished lamely.

Momentarily tongue-tied, the General clenched first one fist, then the other. The room was deadly quiet. "Dismissed!"

"This whole thing is ridiculous!" ranted Jack to his team mates, as soon as they were out of earshot of General Hammond.

"One thing's for sure... you're going to be totally screwed, Jack," said Daniel. The three quickly stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. "Oh, _Jeez! _That's not fair! I just... I mean I didn't mean..."

"Doesn't matter," advised Jack, smirking. "We all heard you. Hand over your George Washingtons, Danny Boy -- the nice, crisp ones." Daniel complied with a great show, slapping the bills into three waiting hands. "And to think you thought I'd be the one to get caught first!" exclaimed Jack, taking his money with glee.

"Whatever I thought before, I think that now I'm going to bury myself in my work!" declared Daniel. Teal'c bid his adieus as well.

"Yes, why don't you just... bury," replied the Colonel to Daniel's fast-retreating back.

"Duty calls!" said Sam, turning to head down the hall to her lab.

He took her by the arm and gently guided her into one of the very few "blind spots," video camera-wise, on base. "Hey, aren't you forgetting something, Sam?"

"What?"

Jack looked around. "A 'see-you-later,' 'have a good day' _kiss, _Carter!" Jack replied, exasperated by her sudden amnesia.

"Ewww, what you just said!"

"But, Carter!"

"Uh-uh-uh!" The sly astrophysicist smiled, wagging her finger at yet another slip of her CO's tongue.

"Look, this is me, _Jack_!"

"Doesn't matter."

"And it was the wrong kind... I mean, the right kind, of 'but,' anyway."

"Naughty, naughty!"

"This whole thing's a pain in the ass!"

Sam was silent, but her expression said it all. She had just won a very easy four bucks. Jack threw up his hands in despair before sliding his wallet out and peeling off the required fine. Then he turned to leave.

"Wait, Jack!" Sam reached up and gave him a little peck on the cheek.

"Oh, gee, thanks a lot, Carter," Jack replied.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Meanwhile, Teal'c was paying a visit to the resident archeologist/linguist. Ordinarily, Daniel wouldn't have thought twice about such a visit. His taciturn friend usually just read something whilst stretched across the overstuffed easy chair in the corner. Today, however, he was suspicious.

"If you think you're going to catch me saying something I shouldn't, believe me, it's not going to happen, Teal'c," warned Daniel, not even bothering to look up from his examination of a rare artifact. "I've learned my lesson."

Teal'c raised one brow. "Daniel Jackson, you are my friend. I have not the motivation nor the guile for such behavior," assured the Jaffa.

Daniel considered this a moment. His friend was probably not very skilled in the art of deceit, at least in _earth methods_ of deceit, and had little use for a dollar bill since he avoided vending machines like the plague.

Daniel relaxed a bit and began to engage Teal'c in small talk. "So...how's your cultural literacy thing going, 'T'? I see you're still reading."

"Indeed. Although I am not fully, as you may say, "wise to the ways of the world' as of yet, considerable progress has been made. However, I find that repetition is invaluable."

"Yes, it certainly is. But that's how we all learn." Daniel set down a shard of pottery, changed his mind, and picked it up again.

"And speaking of repetition, I do have one question that refers back to a time previous, when we were supposed to be playing 'Tic Tac Toe.'"

Daniel's brows knit together in mild irritation, remembering the event. "Yes?"

"Would you kindly remind me again of the meaning of x's and o's in your culture?" requested Teal'c.

"In our _culture_, Teal'c, _not_ in the _game_, the x's are hugs and the o's are kiss..." Daniel stopped, not bothering to finish the sentence. "That's it, Teal'c! Out you go!" He prodded the big man off the chair and out the door, locking it behind him.

"Daniel Jackson, do you not owe me one... what is it... George Washington?" Teal'c inquired from the hallway.

"Later! I don't have any ones right now!"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When the four team members met for lunch, a beaming Sam pressed for an accounting of the morning's events.

"How about you, 'T'?" she inquired enthusiastically, finishing a chicken sandwich and diving into a dish of blue Jello.

"I have both won and lost a 'George Washington,'" replied Teal'c. His first, and only, "win" was with Daniel Jackson, since no one else on base took any of his proffered bait. And he lost a real "George Washington" when he was tricked into discussing a certain Goa'uld system lord with Skyler.

"And you, Daniel?"

"You know, I _really_ don't want to _talk_ about it," said Daniel, emphasizing his words by thrusting his spoon deep within his fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt.

Jack couldn't resist a dig. "Because you lost _three bucks, _or is it more by now?"

"Actually, it is four," Teal'c smiled.

"Four, huh?" sneered Jack.

"Not any more than _you_ lost, _Colonel_," reminded Sam.

"Jack lost four bucks?" asked Daniel, suddenly brightening.

"Yeah, four to me," replied Sam. "No more, though, since he probably didn't speak to anyone else for the rest of the morning."

"Four... to Sam... oh, you poor man," commiserated Daniel, looking from Jack to Sam and from Sam to Jack.

Jack looked uncomfortable. "Why don't you just brag about your morning, Carter, and get it over with?"

"Let's see..." Sam made a big show of counting on her fingers, naming the people who now had thinner wallets, until she ran out of fingers. "Fourteen. So I'm now seventeen dollars richer, since Jack was so generous." She was beaming. "Oh, and one more... Martin, just a few minutes ago. So... fifteen people, eighteen dollars."

"Martin... as in, Martin the _chef_?" asked Jack. "What'd you get him on?"

"Hey, you're not going to catch me so easy, there, fella. I ain't sayin'."

"Okay, so say something similar."

Sam considered the suggestion for a moment, decided it was safe, and then ventured, "Okay... pork lions."

"You got him for discussing cuts of _meat_?" asked Daniel, incredulous.

"Now, that just goes to show you how _incredibly stupid_ that directive is!" exploded Jack. The others agreed, nodding their heads and sighing. All except Sam. She was deep in thought.

"I think I've got a way to convince the General to rescind his order," said Sam, a conspiratorial grin on her face. And it goes like this ..."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The four approached the General's door. "Should we really go through with this?" asked Daniel. "We may get into trouble..."

"We're already in trouble... the whole base is! Not much work is getting done out there, what with everyone having to weigh their every word." replied Jack. "Let's get this thing over with." He knocked on General Hammond's door.

"Yes, come in," answered the General crisply. He looked askance at the members of SG-1 standing before him. "Just what can I do for you? Oh, and have a seat, people." They all took his suggestion. Better to sit down now, then to fall down later.

Sam cleared her throat. "General, you're always suggesting expanding one's base of knowledge, so we – the four of us – have decided to learn more about history. Specifically, about past presidential administrations."

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Major. Certainly better than spending your spare time reading comic books or watching inane animated TV shows," said the General, glancing briefly but meaningfully at the Colonel, who winced a bit.

"Yes, Sir. Well, we know how learned you are in this area – actually, in many areas, sir – and we were wondering if you could answer a question."

"Couldn't you just look it up on-line, Major?"

"Ummm, well, we could sir, but actually, we've got kind of a bet going on whether you'd say the answer."

General Hammond looked amused at this, although technically betting of any sort was against regs. "Fire away!"

"Well, the question we have is... who served as National Security Advisor and concurrently as Secretary of State under the Nixon administration?"

"Why, that's an easy one! I'm surprised the four of you don't know the answer! Henry Kissinger, of course!"

The team mates let out a collective sigh of relief. He'd said it! Now Sam had to confront him with it, a touchy enterprise at best.

"Uh, Sir, with all due respect, you said "K-I-S-S."

"And so?"

"Sir, again with all due respect, you said early this morning, and I quote, 'I don't even want to hear as much as 'K-I-S-S' on this base from now on, in any form whatsoever.' And, sir, that's what you just said now." The four exchanged furtive glances at each other.

"So I did, Major, so I did," replied the General in his level voice. Like a thermometer, however, the color of his face, and bald pate, belied the calm in his voice. Jack, not a praying man, was nevertheless praying his CO was not going to have an aneurysm.

"People," the General began slowly and deliberately, "do you know the meaning of the term 'entrapment?'"

Daniel jumped in at this, since Sam seemed to have a very large lump in her throat. "I think we do, Sir, pretty much, and the definition is not very pretty. But with all due respect, Sir, what's been going on this morning here on base hasn't been very pretty, either."

The General looked confused. "Dr. Jackson, what on _earth_ are you talking about?"

"Sir, everyone has been stepping on eggshells around here, afraid to say... to say... well, anything at all, for fear they'll say something wrong. And some people aren't doing any work, or just a little work at best, since they're spending their time trying to catch – entrap, in your words -- others and win their precious dollar _bills_." The word "bills" came out a little strangely, since Sam by then was firmly grinding her heel onto Daniel's shoe. He struggled to keep his voice normal. "Not that I... uh... want to name anyone _in particular_, of course. _Ouch_!"

"Of course not, Dr. Jackson." The General sighed. "It's a tough job sitting in this chair, in this office, and mistakes are sometimes made. But I do appreciate you – all of you -- taking the time to approach me on this matter. I will announce that the directive has been rescinded, immediately. Dismissed!"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I could go for a nice, cold beer right about now. No, make that at least two," said Jack, as the quartet made their way down the hall.

"At 1400 hours?" asked Sam.

"You bet your sweet bippy!"

"Jack, is that a one-buck or two-buck word?" asked Daniel, grinning.

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud... it's just a silly phrase from 'Laugh In,' a show from the 60's!"

"I guess we'll have to take your word for it, since we weren't out of diapers then," said Sam, with a little chuckle. Come to think of it, a beer, with a bun-whumping game of pool on the side, didn't sound so bad. "So... O'Malley's tonight?" she suggested.

"Can't think of a better way to spend your money, Carter," replied Jack.

"Some of which is _our _money," reminded Daniel.

"Indeed," added Teal'c.

**Note**: Daniel and Teal'c had a very interesting "game" of Tic Tac Toe in my story entitled, appropriately enough, "Tic Tac Toe." To read about the results of another unpopular directive, read "Sugar Highs, Sugar Lows."


End file.
